


we're so close to something better left unknown

by ohmcgee



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Denial of Sexuality, Dumb boys being dumb, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, if that's a thing, roy harper is my all my everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 02:23:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4330203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re fourteen and Dick’s talking about girls again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we're so close to something better left unknown

They’re fourteen and Dick’s talking about girls again. Roy’s on his back with his feet on the wall while Dick thumbs through some stupid magazine with cars in it, not really looking at it. Dick says girls are crazy and Roy says “yep.” Dick says he likes the way their hair smells and Roy says “uh huh.” 

Roy watches Dick’s mouth move when he talks, follows his tongue every time Dick wets his mouth. He’s talking about kissing -- kissing girls, specifically, and Roy’s kissed girls. Lots of girls. But he kind of wonders what it would be like to kiss another boy, if it would be soft and wet like kissing a girl, or if it would be different. He wonders, specifically, what it would be like to kiss Dick.

They’re laying in Roy’s bed later watching an old Bruce Lee movie when Roy leans across Dick to reach for the popcorn and decides to kiss him instead. Dick tastes like butter and salt and his lips are soft just like a girl’s, but Roy doesn’t get to find out much else because Dick is pushing him away with a hand to his chest, his cheeks a fiery red color.

“You can’t do that,” He mutters and snatches the popcorn out of Roy’s reach, like he’s punishing him.

 

***

 

Roy doesn’t get what the big deal is. Everybody has a mouth, lips, a tongue. Everybody likes kissing. It only makes sense that _everybody_ should get to do it. Boys, girls, boys with girls, girls with girls, boys with boys. It all sounds good to him.

Apparently everyone hasn’t gotten that memo though.

Dick can hardly look at him for two _weeks_ after Roy accidentally on purpose kisses him and everytime he does his cheeks flare up again, like he’s remembering the way their buttery lips slid together. 

“Stop being an idiot,” Roy finally says and shoves Dick down onto the mat the next time they train together. He’s tired of Dick not looking at him, not laughing whenever he say something stupid or trips over his own feet. He’s tired of watching tv in his own room alone and hearing Dick laughing with Wally. “Sorry about whatever. Can we just go back to you annoying the shit out of me and stealing all my fries?”

Dick grins, albeit slowly. “You know,” he says, sweeping his leg beneath Roy and making him fall on the mat next to him. “I have been kind of hungry.”

 

***

 

For the next two years Roy’s pretty good. He keeps busy with girls of his own, and boys, and figures out that not everyone likes the same things he likes. It’s weird, he thinks, to limit yourself to just one or the other, but Dick likes pineapples on his pizza, so whatever. People have their own preferences. 

Dick goes through a steady stream of girlfriends and Roy accepts that Dick’s just not like him, not in this way. So he listens to him talk about girls while they play pinball, listens to him talk about girls while they’re supposed to be watching some bad horror movie, listens to Dick talk about girls while they run around in tights and capes, and Roy gives him advice just like his best friend is supposed to do.

Then he does a dumb thing and sneaks some beers out of Ollie’s fridge for Dick’s birthday. Dick gets drunk off of one of them, lightweight he is, and Roy finds out that he’s going to be one of those handsy drunks. Roy bats his hand away, but Dick keeps twirling Roy’s hair around his fingers, throwing his arm around him and laughing next to his ear, sitting so close Roy can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes when Dick’s thigh presses up against his. 

He waits until Dick sounds like he’s asleep on his shoulder before he slips out of Dick’s bed, pulls his shoes off and tucks the covers around him. 

“Hey,” Dick says, grabbing Roy’s wrist before he can leave. “Stay?”

“Nah,” Roy says. “You kick like an angry puppy in your sleep.”

“No kicking,” Dick says. “Promise. S’my birthday. Stay.”

“Oh fine, you giant brat,” Roy says even though he knows it's a bad idea, walks around and gets under the blankets, turns the lamp off. “Go to sleep, Dickie.”

“Kay,” Dick says, but then he’s rolling over onto his side and facing Roy and he’s so close Roy can smell the beer on his breath and the candy he’s always sucking on. He closes his eyes when Dick reaches out and tucks his hair behind his ear, leans in and presses their foreheads together.

They stay like that for a few minutes, just breathing the same air, until Dick says, “You can kiss me if you want,” and Roy --

Roy wants to. Of _course_ he wants to. It’s practically all he’s been able to think about every day for the last two years, but not like this, not with Dick saying it like he’s taking fucking pity on him.

“Go to sleep, Dick,” Roy says and rolls over. Dick ends up kicking him in the kidney in the middle of the night and Roy gets up and goes to his own bed and in the morning Dick acts like he can’t remember what happened.

Roy isn’t sure if he believes him or not. 

 

***

 

They go six whole months without another incident. Roy wonders if they should get a plaque made.

The next time it happens they’re sober. Dick comes barging into his room without knocking like he was raised in a barn and not some millionaire’s mansion and his face turns bright red when he sees what’s on Roy’s tv.

“Oh,” he says and glances away quickly. “Sorry. I”ll --”

“It’s fine,” Roy shrugs, turns the volume down a little so they can talk, pats the other side of the bed. “What’s up?”

“Um,” Dick says, shifting on his feet and Roy rolls his eyes. 

“Just sit down, dork,” he says as one of the cheerleaders on the screen gets her hand up the other cheerleader’s skirt. “It’s just porn.”

“Just porn,” Dick snorts, but he sits down anyway. He apparently forgets what he came in to ask Roy about and Roy doesn’t really care anyway, just leans back against the wall and goes back to watching the movie he snaked out of Ollie’s secret stash. 

“So that’s Tiffany,” Roy says, pointing out the brunette. “And that’s her friend Stacey. See, they were having a car wash --”

“I can see what’s _happening_ , Roy,” Dick says, strained, and when Roy glances down he can see that Dick’s shorts are already tenting up a little, his hands balled into little fists at his sides. 

“Dude, loosen up,” Roy says. “Everybody watches porn. It’s no big deal.”

“Yeah, but,” Dick says, but his thoughts trail off when Tiffany pulls Stacey’s skirt off and lays her out over the hood of the car, squeezes her soapy tits. He makes a noise when Tiffany leans down and starts licking Stacey’s pussy and Roy can’t help it, reaches down and starts palming his dick over his pants as he watches Dick watching them.

“It’s hot right,” Roy murmurs. “Man, I love eating girls out.”

Dick’s cheeks flush boldly and he squirms a little. “I’ve never…”

“Oh man,” Roy says. “It’s so good. Tastes so good. I end up with my whole face wet.”

“God,” Dick whispers and Roy --

Roy knows better, he does, but he’s so fucking _horny_ and Dick’s sitting there next to him, hard as shit and not doing anything _about_ it and it’s fucking kill him. So he reaches over, touches Dick’s thigh tentatively and hears Dick suck in a sharp breath, looks up to see him bite down on his lip and lock his eyes with Roy. But he doesn’t say no, he doesn’t say stop or _you can’t do that_ , so Roy cups him through his shorts and watches Dick’s eyelids flutter and his mouth fall open in this soft little moan. 

He stays pretty quiet while Roy squeezes him and rubs him through his shorts, his eyes mostly glued to the porn, like that makes it better or okay, but when Roy drags his zipper down Dick’s eyes flicker down to his.

“Roy,” he says shakily, kind of unsteady, like he isn’t really sure how he feels about any of this and Roy just says, “Shh, just watch the pretty girls, Dickie,” and gets his hand around him.

Dick whimpers as soon as he feels Roy’s fingers wrap around him, clutches Roy’s sheets when Roy thumbs the head of his cock, smearing all that precome around and getting him slick. Dick’s staring straight ahead, watching as Stacey returns the favor to Tiffany, spreading her pussy with her fingers and tonguing her clit. Roy’s not sure if his heavy breathing has more to do with the girls in the porn or with Roy’s hand sliding up and down his cock, but he looks good either way, his mouth all bitten-red, face and neck flushed, and Roy wants so bad just to lean forward a little and wrap his lips around the head of Dick’s cock, show him just how good he is at giving head, but he doesn’t. This -- this is probably too much, but he can’t stop now. 

Dick comes when Roy squeezes his balls with his other hand, just shoots all over his stomach and up his chest and Roy’s mouth waters with how much he wants to lean in and lick it off Dick’s skin. Instead he rolls onto his back and pushes his jeans just far enough off his hips so he can get his hand around his own dick, his fingers slick with Dick’s come, fuck his own fist until he arches off the bed and comes so hard he sees little white spots behind his eyes for the next five minutes. 

“This doesn’t mean --” Dick starts and Roy throws his legs over the bed, yanks his jeans up.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Roy finishes for him.

It’s just easier to hear when he’s the one saying it.

 

***

 

They don’t talk about it. 

It happens again, Roy getting Dick off while Godzilla destroys Tokyo on the tv, and they don’t talk about that either.

On Roy’s eighteenth birthday Roy gets the Titans wasted on high dollar scotch from Ollie’s liquor cabinet. They laugh and dance and for a few hours they get to forget their responsibilities and burdens and just be kids, wild and carefree.

Roy ends up with Dick’s tongue in his mouth, pressed up against the closet door in Dick’s room. They don’t talk about this, they never talk about this, but Roy _wants_ , he wants Dick more than he ever thought he could want him. He’s tired of the push and pull, of pretending, he’s tired of watching Dick go out with girl after redheaded girl, and if that’s what Dick wants it’s fine, but he just needs to _know_ \--

“Dick,” he says across Dick’s jaw. “Tell me you want this.” _Tell me you want me._

“I want,” Dick pants, touching his thumb to Roy’s mouth. “Please, Roy?”

And that’s enough to get Roy to fall to his knees for him, swallow Dick down and fuck his face on him until Dick floods his mouth with his come, his hands tight in Roy’s hair, saying Roy’s name like it’s a revelation.

They still don’t talk about it.

 

***

 

“I don’t like men,” Dick says quietly. It’s been three months and they’re on a stake-out together and it’s so fucking random and out of nowhere that Roy’s bow falls out of his hand onto the ground.

“Uh, duh,” Roy says. “I know that.”

“It’s just,” Dick says and he puts his binoculars down, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and god, he’s so goddamn beautiful Roy can’t stand it. “Do you think. I mean. Do you think maybe I could just like you?”

Roy isn’t sure it actually works like that, but he also really doesn’t care about debating the semantics of sexuality right now.

“Yeah, Dickie,” he says, pulling the stupid binoculars out of Dick’s hands and pushing him up against the brick, kissing him until he absolutely has to pull away for air. “I think maybe we can work with that.”


End file.
